Desire Reborn
by addicted-to-romione-bedward
Summary: What happens when you stumble in the wrong place at the right time? Feelings resurface and lives are changed. The key word is Desire. Part of Fandom 4 Animals contest.


**Banner link: ** check my group on fb. It won't even paste me the link separate by spaces here. Stupid website!**  
Banner by: **addicted-to-romione-bedward

Desire Reborn** by **addicted-to-romione-bedward**  
Rated: **NC17**  
Beta: **A-Jasper-For-Me**  
Summary: **What happens when you stumble in the wrong place at the right time? Feelings resurface and lives are changed. The key word is Desire. Part of Fandom 4 Animals contest.

* * *

**EPOV**

"Oh, please!" I mutter to myself as I realize the only place open at this hour is a night club. It's normal though, being one in the morning.

I'm lost in this podunk town and nothing is open so I can ask for directions—excluding the police station … I have tickets.

In my thirty-six years, I've never been in a place like this. Some may call me secluded, others an idiot, some may be impressed. Whatever. I always thought such places were a disease firebox.

Clearing my throat, and throwing a last look around, I step in the godforsaken place.

There's music playing and a few girls are on the bar, undulating around the poles. Men are near the bar touching and encouraging them to shake their asses or show the goodies.

Scowling, I walk to the dark end of the counter.

"What can I get you?" the man behind the bar asks.

"One Heineken," I tell him, but before I can ask more—the reason I'm actually here, he's gone.

I pull my cigarettes out and place one between my lips, lighting it up and taking a drag. The barman places my bottle in front of me and disappears.

Well, fuck.

I guess these guys aren't chatty like the ones in normal bars.

I really don't understand what's so fabulous about staring at these girls, rubbing themselves against these poles and all over the counter.

Sometime later, a pair of shiny red high heels appears in my line of view. One of them goes under my chin and tilts my head.

There's a girl in front of me. "You're either a kinky fuck or a virgin. No one in their right mind would miss the show."

I put her foot back down on the counter, pick my half-burnt cigarette from the ashtray and refuse to talk to her. But my traitor eyes flick to her exposed legs covered in fishnet, her tiny panties and her bare boobs. Well, almost bare. There must be a policy about not showing nipple, because they are hidden by tape.

"Not talkative, are we?" she asks, plunking her ass in front of me, stealing my beer and taking a swig. "Can I keep you company?"

I snatch my beer back, glaring at her. "I'm just fine by myself."

"Oh, I see. You're the voyeur."

"I'm …" I close my mouth, sighing in my annoyance. "Not any of that! Not a kinky fucker, not a fucking virgin, nor a voyeur! I'm simply lost!" I hiss at her.

"Oh!" Her eyes widen. A hand covers her red lips. She scoots closer to me, her legs dangling on either side of me. "The church is just across the street."

"Not in that way!" I groan, not sure why I'm even trying to make her understand.

She frowns at me.

"I should be in Jackson tomorrow. You know … Jackson … that city in Mississippi? I have a business meeting."

"You are in Jackson!" She laughs, tapping my thigh with her heel. "Now that we got that covered … want to see my room upstairs?"

"Oh, I'm already in Jackson? I have no idea when I got here …"

"Come upstairs," she whispers seductively, leaning closer, letting herself fall on my lap. "I promise to give you a good time."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

With my hands on her waist, I help her into a standing position, throw a few bucks on the counter and turn to leave.

To my utter horror, five cops step inside at the same time. It would be funny if I wasn't so scared of how everyone started running in every direction.

A small hand grips mine and I'm dragged somewhere.

"Hurry!" I hear the girl's voice. Her heels are clicking loudly on the stairs.

I realize we're not going up, we're going down somewhere. Suddenly we're out of the building through a back door. She snatches something off the floor, mumbling about smart thinking—whatever she means by that.

"Do you have a car?" she asks over her shoulder, all the while leading me down the alley.

"Out front."

Jeez. Too much excitement for my first time in a strip club.

"Great. Hold on. Don't go anywhere." She drops my hand and rummages through a backpack pulling out a pair of jeans and a hoodie. They look too large for her, but they cover everything. She stuffs her high heels in the backpack and slips on a pair of tennis shoes. "Your car?"

I want to argue, but I take her hand, walking through the alley and out front. Facing the wall next to the entrance of the club are most of the people from inside, and the cops patting them down.

I put my arm around the girl's shoulders, making it look casual as I head to my car.

It would have been too nice for the cops not to stop us.

"Hold it right there!" one of them shouts at us.

The girl trembles next to me. I have an overwhelming urge to protect her. So I do something totally out of my character. I turn around and glare at the cop.

"Instead of stopping us because you think we did something wrong just because we're passing by, you should be going after that piece of shit!" I wave toward the alley we just left. "Some fucker attacked my girlfriend!" I add.

The cop stares at me shocked then runs in the direction I pointed him. There's no one there, but it will distract him enough for me to take this girl away from their raid.

I suddenly want to know everything about her—especially her age. She doesn't even look legal. Working in a place like this? Shit happens to people who don't deserve it.

I open the passenger door of my car and help her inside.

"So where to?" I ask once I'm behind the wheel.

"I kinda live there." She points to the place raided by the cops.

Say what?

She lives in the club?

That's sad.

But I wasn't talking where she lives.

I clear my throat. "I mean, where's my hotel?"

She throws me a funny look. "What fucking hotel, dude?"

"My hotel," I mutter, growing annoyed. "Try the documents you're sitting on. Thank you by the way."

She snatches the folder from under her ass and flips it open. "Oh, sweet! Hilton. It's just a few streets away." She starts giving me directions.

I don't even want to know why she's familiar with this hotel's location.

_The fuck am I doing?_ I have a hooker in my car.

I glance at her as I park at the entrance. The valet greets me. I give him the keys and five bucks, grab my suitcase and lead the girl inside. Every eye in the reception rounds on us—on her.

The lady behind the counter is nice toward me, but glares at the girl accompanying me. The bellboy leers at her. The other man checking-in is staring at her as well.

They're getting on my nerves.

Snatching the key from the counter, I lead the girl to the elevator with a hand on her shoulder. I'm all about touching her apparently.

We reach my floor, and I walk ahead toward the room.

701.

703.

705.

707—our destination.

"Make yourself at home," I mumble, shouldering the door open, allowing her to step in first.

Mom brought me up as a gentleman. Though I've no idea how to act around her.

"So I take ten for head, eight for a hand-job and well it all depends on you for more, but more than fifty."

I stare at her shocked.

"I didn't bring you here for my sexual needs …"

Awesome, I sound like a grandpa.

A tiny part of me wants something from her. I can't even remember the last I've been with a woman.

It's sad, I know.

Welcome to my life. Take a seat and enjoy.

She looks shocked at me. "Then why did you bring me here?"

"I rescued you. It would be nice if I knew your name or something."

"Because I know your name and that's just standard procedure with my clients." I can sense the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"I'm Edward," I tell her, walking to the bed and flopping it.

God, I'm so tired.

I've been stupid to drive here.

"Call me Desire," she whispers seductively, straddling my lap.

Fuck.

"Wh-what a-are you d-do-oing?" I stutter like a fucking idiot, but my dick has a mind of its own. One touch is all it's gonna take to get hard.

Because you know, it's been forever since it felt a woman's touch.

"Making you feel good." She starts unbuttoning my shirt.

"Whoa! Wait!" I grasp her hands in mine. "Stop," I mumble, dropping my hands on my head, fisting my hair.

She doesn't get the hint, diving for my pants now.

I roll us around, pinning her arms above her head. "Seriously, you've got to stop undressing me."

"You wanna do that part?" She frowns, but soon it's replaced with a smirk on her full, red lips. "You are into kinky shit."

I release her arms and move to the end of the bed. "Listen, we need some rules. I'll be in town for a week—my meeting, remember? In the meantime, I'd like you to stay here … so we're sure the cops are done raiding that place …"

"What the fuck are you taking? I need some of that shit. It must be good."

It's my turn to frown.

"You want me to stay here … and what? Keep you company? You're going to pay me just for sitting around and looking pretty?"

I rub my temple. I have dough. If I put my mind to it, I can keep her here.

"Say I give you one hundred per day … would you stay and look pretty? That can't be hard …"

Her head cocks to the side, regarding me skeptically.

"Look, I don't like what you do for a living but I'm sure my opinion doesn't count. You look too young to even be legal. How old are you anyway?"

That seems to be the trick question because she charges at me. I walk back surprised and stumble over a table.

"You're a fucking cop too! It was too easy to get rid of that one at the club! I'm outta here!" She snatches her backpack off the floor and stalks to the door.

"I'm not a fucking cop!" I shout desperately. I want her to stay.

"Like hell you're not."

I grab her arm just as she reaches the door. I immobilize her with my leg, trapping her between the door and me. She's so fucking tiny. In the meantime, I grab my wallet and show her my business card.

"I'm an investor."

I hope she knows how to read.

"Whatever. Either bend me over the bed or let me go," she bites.

I take a step back.

We stare at each other for a long time.

She has beautiful brown eyes.

Then she's gone, the door slamming behind her.

Well fuck. I scratch my head_. She was a lost cause anyway_, I try to convince myself.

I don't sleep well that night—tossing and turning.

In the morning, I head into the lobby to meet with everyone that's here for the conference. But before I can reach them, a few feet away, I see the girl—Desire—curled up on a sofa.

Waving to my guys, I head to the girl and crouch in front of her, not sure how to wake her.

"Hey," I whisper, touching her arm. Nothing happens. "Hey!" I poke her leg.

She jerks awake, staring at me surprised, rubbing her eyes. There's mascara and eyeliner everywhere. Then she does the cutest thing—she gives a loud yawn.

"Go back to my room." I put the key in her hand. "I'm sure the bed is more comfortable."

She bites her lip, staring at me in awe. "Is that hundred bucks thing still a go?"

"Yep." I nod. "Now go. I have a meeting to attend. I'll see you in a few hours. Feel free to call room-service if you're hungry."

The meeting drags. I grow more and more irritated by the minute. I have no idea why I've been chosen to come and make these people understand the prospect of a big mall in the area. They're set in their ways. Nothing can waiver them.

Some hours later we call it a day. Thank Baby Jesus.

I trudge back to my room, only to realize I gave her the key.

Awesome.

I knock. On my own hotel room door.

She opens promptly. Clad in a bathrobe, hair wrapped in a towel, loud music pumping from … somewhere.

"Hi!" She waves to me, dancing away from me.

I realize the TV's on.

"Could you keep it down?" I beg her. I wonder how she heard me knocking.

"We have a deal about the hundred bucks!" she tells me, lowering the volume—thank God—and plopping on my bed.

The bathrobe opens a little and I can see skin and mile-long legs.

Not helping my body, which seems to be waking up from hibernation.

"We got that covered in the lobby," I point out, loosening my tie then taking it off entirely and throwing it on the back of a chair, followed by my jacket.

"I mean ..." She sits up on her elbows making the bathrobe gape at her chest. I can see tits. "You can be my Sugar Daddy. You know what that is?" She plants her feet flat on the bed, opening and closing her legs. Definitely naked under there. "You take care of me, give me money and buy me pretty stuff."

"I know what that means," I grit out, not looking at her.

Je-_sus_.

"Cool. There's food in the other room, by the way."

"Okay." I take off immediately.

She laughs behind me. Loud. "Does my cooter scare you away?"

Shut up.

_Down, boy._

I'm going crazy.

Why did I bring her here? WHY?

I need a hard wall so I can bang my head against it.

Then I see the table filled with every possible dish.

Good thing the company pays for these.

"But I have one condition." Uh, Desire is behind me.

I'm afraid to ask if that's her real name. I don't need another hissy fit about me being a cop. Seriously, I hate cops. Evil fuckers. My growing stack of tickets is proof of that.

"What do you want?" I ask tiredly, grabbing a chicken leg and biting into it.

"I'm still going to the club. That's what I do. I work there."

I pull a face. "How about we double the amount I'm giving you?"

"I won't quit the club!"

"Fine," I hiss. "Can you go do whatever you were doing before I arrived? I need to eat in peace."

"Whatever."

A minute later, she turns the volume up again.

.

.

.

Over the next couple of days, I ask at reception for another key so she can have one. Desire, that is.

I took her shopping and got her clothes that actually fit her and they're decent. She put her foot down at trying a dress.

I've tried snooping in her backpack for an ID while she was in the shower. That didn't turn out in my favor and she stormed out. I was sure she was gone for good, but later in the night, she returned—stinking of smoke and alcohol … and much to my disappointment … sex. She took the couch like every night.

That was three hours ago.

She keeps tossing and turning, which keeps me from falling asleep as she huffs and puffs. Until I hear a thud and a loud curse from her. She can curse like a sailor.

I flip the bedside lamp on to see the girl sprawled on the floor.

The first thing I see is her split lip then a bruise on her arm … actually there are more—I can see fingerprints.

"What the hell happened?" I ask worried, rushing to her side.

She's growing on me. Sue me now.

I'm expecting a lie. Like she fell or something.

But she bursts into tears and wraps her arms around my neck, sobbing on my shoulder.

"Shh, kid. What happened?" I rub her back.

"I was leaving … and he pulled over … asked for head." She gulps. "I never do this thing, but he offered me five hundred … for head. I should have known there was something fishy."

"Did he … force you?" I wonder.

She gives me an amused look, tears glistening in her eyes. "They pretty much force me all the time, but … this was worse. I mean he didn't make me give him head or fuck me … he just drove to an abandoned area, took me out of the car and started hitting me. He took my money." She sobs. "I had about seven hundred. He took my money!" she wails.

"The fuck? Why would someone rob a …" I trail off.

"Prostitute. Say it," she hisses. "Though I'm not one. I'm just a dancer."

"Like hell you are! You invited me upstairs, remember?"

"Whatever. Can I sleep now?"

"What about your money?" I frown as she climbs back on the couch.

"What about it? It's gone."

"We can call the police," I insist.

"Or you can go and check your head. It's definitely cracked."

We leave it at that and I return to my bed.

More time passes and I know she's not sleeping. She's crying her heart out in the pillow.

Fuck.

"Uh, Desire?" I say uncertainly.

"Yeah?" She sniffs.

"Come here."

I see her raising her head to stare at me in the dark room. Slowly she makes her way to me and gets under the covers.

"You finally grew a pair, huh? Who would have thought? What would it be?"

Jeez. She thinks I want something from her. "You looked like you needed a hug," I whisper, wrapping my arms around her fragile body before she can squirm away.

"Don't do this shit!"

"What shit?" I ask, chuckling.

"This! I don't do hugs and cheesy shit! If you need romance in your life, you're searching in the wrong fucking place!" she snaps at me, pushing against my chest.

I hug her closer, until she settles with a loud groan.

It was too nice for her to stop struggling … because in the morning I wake up in a way I didn't expect. My dick in her mouth.

There is nothing to do about it—just enjoy it.

And fuck the girl can suck.

The girl …

"I need to know something," I rasp out.

She separates from me with a loud pop. Her huge brown eyes are boring into mine.

"How old are you? Truthfully."

"Eighteen. I swear. I can show you some ID … but I'm busy." She points to my twitching dick.

Traitor!

I wave for her to continue as my head falls back on the pillow.

She knows how to suck just right. Fuck, I can't hold back, which is embarrassing. A few licks and slurps is all it takes me to explode in her mouth.

Years' worth of cum erupts from my dick.

I'm surprise I don't choke her.

But fuck if I don't feel better than ever in my orgasm-induced state.

"Poor boy. How long has it been for you?" she coos, crawling up my body.

"Too fucking long," I mutter. "You really shouldn't have done that. I think you created a monster." My cock is twitching, which is weird. I'm too old for that shit.

"Isn't this the whole deal to have someone like me around? It was going to happen sooner or later."

Not on my terms, but now … fuck. I don't want to leave the bed. I want to turn her around and pound into her until she can't walk anymore.

But I roll out of the bed and head for the shower. It's my last day here, but I might stay for the weekend as well. I need to sort through my thoughts.

I want to do something totally stupid, something that could kill me if I bring it up for discussion with Desire.

I want to take her home—to Atlanta.

I'm crazy, I know.

The thing is, I don't have anyone to confront about this when I leave the bathroom. She's gone.

Oh, well.

After my last meeting where I finally seal the deal for a new mall in the area, I head back to my room.

She's still not back, which worries me. I went for a few drinks with the guys from the company here. It's way past midnight.

Worried that something like last night happened to her, I decide to head to the club. Willingly.

The second I step inside the godforsaken place I spot her on the counter, gripping a pole and wrapping her limbs around it. I have to admit she has a killer body.

I walk to the same spot as last time and order a beer. It feels like dejà-vu as I light myself a smoke. Then a pair of shiny red high heels appears in front of me.

"Look what the cat dragged in." She giggles, slithering her way onto my lap and moving in time with the beat. "Missed me?" She licks the shell of my ear.

"Desire, get a room!" the barman shouts at her. "Christ," he mutters, stomping away.

"My hotel," I hiss to her.

"I love my Sugar Daddy." She grins at me. "Lemme get my bag."

I finish my cigarette and the beer as I wait for her to return with her stuff.

When she finally returns dressed in her jeans and oversized hoodie, I take her hand and walk out of that place. Hopefully, she'll never return here.

We don't talk until we reach my room. She starts undressing and I try not to stare.

"Ready to have your world rocked?"

I groan for multiple reasons. She hooks her fingers in the loops of my pants and drags me closer.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I whisper.

She gives me an odd look. "You either are against sex, which doesn't seem likely … or simply an idiot."

Ouch.

"I need to get some things straight first," I tell her firmly, putting my hands on her shoulders. "First, I don't sleep around with nameless persons. I need your name."

"Bella," she blurts out. "Anything else? My cooter needs that big boy in your pants."

A shiver ripples down my spine.

_She has a way with the words_. Sense the sarcasm.

"The other thing is, I want you to quit the club and come with me to Atlanta. If you want me to be your Sugar Daddy, you've got to listen to me."

Bella ponders my words before nodding vigorously. "You got it! Now can we fuck?"

"Another thing," I add, growing annoyed. She groans, gesturing for me to go ahead already. "You need to stop cussing. I'll keep money from your hundred bucks a day."

"Now that's so fucking unfair!"

"That just cost you one dollar."

She scowls at me. "My Sugar Daddy is mean today."

"And horny," I mutter. My ears turn red when I realize what I just said.

This girl will be the death of me.

Beaming, she comes closer to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and looking up at me. She's so freaking tiny.

Gulping, I bend my head as she tilts hers. Our breaths mingle and I suppress another shiver. My hands are still on her shoulders and I squeeze them as I lean closer, pressing my lips to hers.

Soft. Pliable. Sweet.

I've died and gone to Heaven.

We move our lips in sync. She tentatively licks my bottom lip, and when I open my mouth, our tongues touch—Bella moans loudly. Her eyes, open until that moment, close lazily, and I see pleasure written all over her face. I separate after a while, keeping my hands on her.

"That was …" She breathes out, staring at me with glazed-over eyes.

"Your first kiss?" I wonder, because everything points to it.

"Are you mad?" Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth.

"I'm honored." I kiss her again, hungrier this time.

There must be multiple reasons why she has never kissed someone on the lips, but I feel something squeezing at my heart that I offered her a first—probably the only first I could.

"You promised me some world rocking stuff," I joke, stroking her cheek with the back of my hand.

"As long as you stop being all sweet. It's messing with my head." Bella dives for my belt, unbuckling it then unzipping my pants.

"Expect this more often if you agree to move in with me. That's how I am."

"Gah! I don't need this shit," she mumbles, dropping to her knees, taking my boxers down, too.

Hmm, she doesn't waste any time, huh?

"Maybe not today." I raise her, leading the way to the bed. I doubt I can hold it if she wraps her lips around me.

"It will be better if you let me go down first," she points out.

"And then it could be hours until I'm ready again," I mutter, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Oh." She frowns. "How old are you? It's only fair, you know? I told you my age."

"Thirty-six."

Her eyes widen slightly but then she shrugs and pushes me on the bed, straddling my lap.

As she grinds against me, I wonder how many older men she had, but then I dismiss the thought. Thinking of her with some faceless men makes my blood boil.

She makes quick work for the rest of our clothes. I direct her to my wallet, but she rolls her eyes and scrambles through her backpack coming out with a half empty box of condoms. Taking one out, she throws it to me. The foil falls on my stomach.

While I work on opening it without ripping the rubber, she licks my balls, sucking one in her mouth. She really knows what she's doing, though I prefer not to think further than that.

I roll the condom on my achingly hard dick, before I grasp her arm and bring her up.

"No way!" she squeaks when she realizes I'm about to kiss her. "That kiss … earlier … was okay. This isn't. Too fucking personal, dude!"

"We're about to get a hell lot more personal, Bella."

"No! Don't call me that in bed."

Jeez.

Demanding little thing.

Remembering I have the upper hand in this, I roll her so she's situated under me. My hand holds her arms above her head as I inch slowly into her warm … cooter, as she calls it. I prefer the word pussy.

But back to paying attention to the now. I need all my focus on this or I'll embarrass the shit out of myself.

Her long legs immediately wrap around my waist, effectively sucking me in her warm tunnel—to the hilt.

"I knew you were kinky," she murmurs, licking the shell of my ear, bucking her hips. "Come on, fuck me already."

"Hold on!" I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut.

Fuck. It's been way too long for me.

"Holy fuck, dude! You _are_ a virgin!"

"I'm not!" I yell, then take a cleansing breath. "I just haven't had sex since … dinosaurs were still alive," I mutter under my breath.

With my hands on her slim hips, I start pounding into her, reveling in the wonderful feeling. She's so wet and the sounds my dick makes while going in and out of her is turning me on further. She shouts unintelligible words as I fuck her like an animal, like a starving man.

I am one.

I want to make this one memorable—the first pussy I have had in … way too damn long.

At some point, I release her arm only to grab her legs and turn her on her side so I'm diving in from a different angle. Apparently it's better for her as well, because she mewls my name, her nails digging into my bicep.

Suddenly she squirms under me and I think I hurt her so I pull back, but the next second she's on all fours looking at me over her shoulder.

Fuck.

I sink back into her tight pussy, pumping at a fast pace. I'm aware she'll be hurting—a lot—but I need this release more than anything else in the world.

When my stomach muscles are so taut I'm afraid they'll rip and my balls are so tight they feel like exploding, I push deeper into her. With a violent shiver that runs through me, I come. She follows right behind me as I'm filling the condom making my eyes cross as she squeezes me so tightly.

After a while, we're both on our backs on the bed, sharing a cigarette. She keeps mumbling about what just happened, saying only, "Oh, fuck."

I guess it was a good experience for her as well.

"I think you lost your money for a day," I joke.

"Oh, fuck. You're awesome, man!" She rolls around, ending up on my chest. "Seriously, like … fucking out of this world. If I get this every day, I promise to be good and live in your house … as long as I get that."

She's not making sense, but I guess she's coming home with me. "Whatever you want," I promise, hugging her to me and kissing her temple. "And if you want to work … you need to swear to me you'll never consider a club as your option anymore."

"You got it." She nods. "But …" she adds quietly, circling my nipple with her finger. "I don't have a degree or anything."

"We can do that as well. If you want to get your GED, I can arrange it."

"I know how to write and everything. I mean I was in high school until … a couple years ago."

"Oh?" That's something I didn't expect. "Why did you drop out?" I twirl a piece of her hair around my finger.

"Irony, I know. My dad used to be a cop … and he got shot. I never knew my mom. People said she was some tramp that stayed with Dad long enough to give birth to me when he refused to hear she wanted an abortion. Anyway, once he died … when I was fifteen … one of his friends took me into his house to take care of me."

I get the chills suddenly.

"A few weeks after my sixteenth birthday, he came to my room and … _you know_ … I didn't know better and kept my mouth shut. I was so stupid. But he liked to drink and after about six months of enduring his nightly visits, one day when I took the whiskey to him, I slipped a lot of pills in the bottle. He OD'd. In the morning when I found him dead on the couch, I fled. I hitchhiked to Jackson … and never looked back."

"Well, fuck," I mutter, hugging her tightly. She's been through so much at such a young age.

"And I had no place to go once I got here. I had a couple hundred I had stolen from that asshole, but just that. While I sat at the diner around the corner from the club, thinking about what to do, someone came to me asking if the seat in front of me was taken. I shook my head so the man sat down. The place was packed, but I bet he'd have stayed there anyway. That's how I met James."

"James?" I echo her.

"Yup. You met him—the barman slash owner of Light your Fire." I frown at her, not following. Not really. "The club? Where I work? Er ... worked. That's the name. He gave us names so we could have our private lives as well … not like mine is very exciting or anything."

"Oh, I see."

She grins at me, pressing her lips around my tormented nipple, sucking and licking.

I guess she's ready for round two. I can't say I am, though.

.

.

.

**BPOV**

His house is pretty. Like really fucking pretty. He has expensive shit all over the place.

I'm afraid to touch anything.

"So this is one of the guestrooms, but I doubt you want it."

"Whatever you say, Sugar Daddy," I giggle, clinging to his arm. "Show me to your bedroom."

"That is the plan." He opens a door and waves inside. "This is where the magic happens. By that I mean where Candy and I sleep."

"Candy?" I ask, suddenly worried. He has told me he's not married, but maybe he has others like me … _no_. I mean, that doesn't make sense. I've been his first in … too long as he put it.

"My dog. She's at my friend's, which reminds me. Do you want to meet her?"

"Will you be upset if I decline? I want a bath and to sleep. The drive here was brutal."

"You slept and drooled on my window, but it's okay if you don't want to meet her yet."

With a kiss on my lips, he leaves, whistling, hands in his pockets.

I pinch myself to make sure this is real. I've never thought of something this awesome happening to me.

It did take a rash decision to move in with Edward, but I'm not regretting it.

I'm determined to finish high school and do something in life. Maybe something with dancing. I do love to dance—pole or not.

A week in my new home and I already feel like I've lived here all my life. Being around my Sugar Daddy is easy. He's sweet and smart and the sex is unbelievable. I had no idea it could feel this good. Not even in my dreams.

I befriended Candy as soon as she was brought home from his friend's place.

It's my first time out on my own.

He has to work until late and told me I can go look around, just not too far so I don't get lost.

I never listen, but thankfully he gave me a phone. I guess I'll call him later when I want to go back. Until then, I walk around window shopping. There are so many pretty things. He did give me a card, but spending money on stuff I don't need was never my thing. I'm just a simple girl.

A note on a wooden door grabs my attention.

**HIRING BARTENDER**

I stare at it, pondering my options. I said I can start studying for my GED, but I won't be able to take them until next year at some point. Oh, well.

This place looks like a bar—familiar scene for me. I did promise not to do this, but it's not a night club. This is different.

So I step inside.

"We're closed!" the blond man behind the counter calls to me, wiping the bar.

"I read that you're hiring," I tell him, walking to the bar. "Is it still available?"

He gives me an once-over, his lips twist up. "Are you even legal, pretty lady?"

"Legal enough to know more about sex than you."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Still too young. I need some ID."

"I'm eighteen," I mutter, tiredly.

"Not happening." He points to the door.

Scowling at him, I start walking to the door but then I see a list of what he wants for his barman—the position he's hiring. Someone to know drinks as others know math.

Oh, I know drinks all right. _Thank you, James._

"Hey, do you mind handing me a paper and a pen?" I ask the blond guy.

He places the items in front of me. "But you're gone the second you finish writing your bucket list."

"Yup." I nod. _Bucket list_. I want to laugh.

I write a little poem about beverages and the best cocktails out there, how combined they make something extraordinary. Once I'm done, I leave the paper and pen and head out the door. He's busy on the other side of the counter. I left him my phone number and name at the end of the page.

As the sun lowers in the sky, I call Edward to pick me up, explaining as best as I can where I am. He's not angry that I took him from work. He actually thanks me repeatedly when we get home.

The next day, I get a call from the blond man. He wants me to start as soon as I can, so I tell him I'll be there in half an hour.

All hell breaks loose around seven that evening. I had gotten a text from Edward telling me he was going out and not to wait up. Little did he know I wasn't home.

Until he steps in the bar and shakes hands with my new boss—Jasper. Turns out they are best friends.

_How the fuck was I supposed to know?_

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

* * *

**No promises of when exactly I will add the last part part, but there will be one. :)**

**I hope you all enjoyed this.**


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